


First Christmas

by righteousbros



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righteousbros/pseuds/righteousbros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas of 1999.  Sam is 16 and Dean is 20.  John is off on a hunt and Dean and Sam are spending Christmas alone.  Again.  But this Christmas is different.  Their relationship has taken a different turn over the summer.  Now Dean is trying to sort through his feelings about it.  What do you get for the person who's gone from just your snot-nosed kid brother, to the object of your hottest fantasies, and now your...boyfriend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Christmas

He had almost got himself fooled into believing that this was just another Christmas.  Another Christmas spent in a no-tell motel with cheap decorations from the dollar store tacked to the walls.  Hell, Dad wasn’t even there.  He was out on a hunt.  Which was also par for the course in the pathetic history of Winchester family Christmases.  Nothing special about it. 

Except that over the summer, everything had changed and become better than Dean had ever dared hope for.  Sam had turned sixteen and almost overnight he’d grown into this impossibly beautiful person, who for some reason seemed happiest when he was stuck to Dean’s side like glue. 

Long hot summer days had run into long hot summer nights.  Young hard bodies curling into one another for comfort while the ceiling fan circled lazily over their bed.  Salty sweat-damp skin sliding against skin in the darkness.  An affectionate and utterly chaste kiss that had suddenly turned needy.  Soft touches and muffled moans that felt so dangerously good. 

They didn’t speak of it at first.  Both of them too nervous to break the spell and upset this thing that was growing between them.  But once that line had been crossed, and the next morning the world didn’t come to an end, it was like neither of them could get enough.  They had clung to it and to each other every day since. 

So maybe this Christmas was a little different.  They were still brothers.  Nothing changing that.  Not ever.  But now there was this other thing too.  Something that seemed too big and too earth-shatteringly important to fit in any one neat little box in Dean’s head. 

And of course, his greatest talent in life seemed to be fucking up relationships.  So if he was maybe a little more nervous about this particular Christmas gift to Sam, well who could really blame him right?  How often does a guy get stuck trying to figure out the perfect gift for his brother _and_ his…boyfriend, (Jesus-H-Christ-when-did- _that_ -word-enter-his-head) with the added complication of them actually being same person?

With a bucket of chicken under his arm and snowflakes clinging to his black watch cap, Dean opened the door to their room and was immediately hit with a wall of warm air.  The sudden contrast to the biting cold outside made his cheeks flush, but it was the unfiltered adoration behind Sam’s mile-wide grin that made his skin tingle.

“Soup’s on!” he announced, handing Sam the bucket.  They had enough money this week that Dean didn’t need to pretend that he wasn’t hungry at the drive-thru window.

“Extra-crispy?”  Sam was already digging deep, searching out a drumstick.

Dean shot him a look as he shucked off his jacket and boots.  “Dude.  What do you take me for?  Obviously.”

Sam smiled his approval and licked grease from his fingertips.  _It’s A Wonderful Life_ was playing on TV for the millionth or so time, but watching anything else on Christmas seemed akin to sacrilege. 

Making sure that his brother was sufficiently distracted by fried chicken and Jimmy Stewart, Dean tucked his cap inside his jacket pocket and pulled out Sammy’s present.  The red paper bow on top was slightly squished but it would have to do.

“Merry Christmas”.  Dean practically shoved the newspaper-wrapped bundle into Sam’s hands.  He sat down on the floor next to Sam and leaned back against a bed with his elbow resting on one raised knee to watch his brother open his gift.  The very image of cool nonchalance.  Nevermind that every impulse in his body was telling him to run and hide. 

Blissful unaware of Dean’s internal freak-out, Sam grinned down at the hastily wrapped package like it held some great treasure.  A warm glow from the colored lights on their little Christmas tree played over his dimples. 

Stealing a fake tree from the department store window had been much harder than Dean had anticipated, but the security guard looked like he’d needed the exercise anyway.

Sam tore the paper away eagerly.  Inside was a black leather cuff.  A wider, thicker version of the ones Dean sometimes wore.  Carved into the leather was a neat row of nearly every protection symbol that their dad had ever taught them, and a few others that had been unearthed from Bobby’s library.  On the inside was the inscription “SWD”.  Their initials intertwined in a careful script like links on a chain.  Looking almost like they might represent one entity instead of two. 

Sam stared at it for a long moment.  Long enough for Dean to start to worry.  Finally he sniffled a bit and cleared his throat.  “It’s perfect.  Thanks Dean.”  Sam’s voice sounded thick like he was dangerously close to tears.

Dean mumbled something that might have resembled “You’re welcome”.  His own voice seemed to be suffering from whatever Sam’s was too.

Sam traced a fingertip over their initials before snapping the cuff closed around his wrist.  “I want to give you something too.” A secret little smile tugged up the corner of his mouth.  Without further ceremony, he stood up and quickly stripped off his clothes, eyes fixed on Dean who just stared back at him, paralyzed with shock.  When Sam was completely naked, he sat down to straddle Dean’s lap and starting kissing him deep and slow. 

By the time Sam pulled back to catch his breath, Dean felt absolutely punch-drunk with lust.  His gorgeous, beautiful, perfect Sammy was naked on top of him, cock rigid and red between his long tanned thighs.  While he on the other hand, was still fully clothed, dick straining against the confines of his jeans.  The contrast was insanely hot. 

They so rarely had the time or the privacy for anything but quick blowjobs in gas station bathrooms, or urgent hands thrust into the front of each other’s pants before Dad came back with takeout.  But now it was just them.  Dean could take his time.  Run his hands all over Sam’s body, tracing the hills and valleys of lean muscle as they warmed under this palms.  The exhilaration of that prospect made him grin as he wrapped his fingers around his brother’s cock.

He only got a few strokes in, before Sam was stilling his hand.  “Wait.  Not like that.  I want tonight to be different.”

Undaunted, Dean pulled his head down to continue his assault on Sam’s mouth.  “It will be.  Dad won’t be home until morning” he continued, punctuating each assurance with a kiss.  “We have all night this time.  I can do this as many times as you can stand it.  Then you can return the favor.”  His bottle green eyes gleamed mischievously as he started moving his hand again.

“No” Sam said, pushing him away.  He looked amazingly serious for someone who was naked.  “You don’t get it.  Tonight is going to be different because I want it to be my first time.  With you.  _That’s_ my gift to you.”

Dean felt whatever blood was left in his head rush into his lap at the same time that his stomach started to do some big panicky flips.  It was a confusing combination.  His lips tried ineffectually to form words for a few moments before he managed a shaky “W-what?” Maybe not his best moment.

“You heard me” Sam insisted.  Like Dean was purposely being thick.  “I want you to be my first.  Pop my cherry”.

He said it so matter-of-factly that Dean was jolted out of his stupor. “No!  No way.  You don’t mean that.  You’re too young!  And who the hell taught you to talk like that anyway?”

Sam gaped at him like he couldn’t believe one person could be that big a moron.  “Are you kidding me?  Dean, I live with _you_.  I’ve heard every possible dirty word and euphemism for sex there is.  Some of which I’m pretty sure you made up!  You’re the one who gave me the Talk when Dad was too embarrassed to get through it.  And I’m not too young!  You lost it when you were _barely_ fifteen to that waitress in Tulsa.”

“Yeah well that doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you repeat my mistakes!  You’re better than that Sam!”  Dean didn’t think he could be more disgusted with himself.  He let this happen.  Let Sam think that he needed to do this.

Sam grabbed Dean’s hands and fitted them over swell of his ass.  Held them there firmly when Dean tried to jerk them back.  “This isn’t a mistake, Dean.  I want this.  I know you do too.”

Sam circled his hips in a tortuously slow grind in his brother’s lap.  Teasing him. 

Dean wanted to let his head fall back and take what Sam was offering him, but the breathy little sounds falling from his brother’s lips reminded him that however grown-up and wise Sam was for his age, in this one area he was still an innocent.  Too precious to be sullied by the likes of him.

“Goddamn it Sam.  Cut it out!”.  Dean bucked up, struggling out of his brother’s grasp and knocking him off his lap.  He scrambled away a few feet until he felt like he could breathe normally again.

Hurt flickered over Sam’s face but within a second it was replaced by a furious scowl.  “Don’t you dare quit on me now!  We’ve been over this, Dean.  I don’t care what anyone else thinks.  _Nothing_ about this is wrong.  You didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want.  That I didn’t ask – shit – _beg_ you to do.”

“That’s not it.  I mean, it is kind of but-“ Dean dragged a hand over his face.  This was it.  He should have listened to his gut and stopped this a long time ago.  He wasn’t the commitment type and there was simply no half-assing this.  Sammy deserved someone much smarter, classier, and a helluva lot more _normal._ “Look, this is just too intense for me right now ok?” 

“Too intense?!”  Sam’s voice pitched higher in what Dean recognized as a level of pissed-off usually reserved for their father.  He grabbed for his boxers and held them over his crotch in a half-hearted effort to cover himself.  “I just offered you – pretty much the only thing I have that’s mine to give.  And you think you can brush me off without an explanation like I was just another slut throwing herself at your feet?  Fuck you!  You’re not getting off that easy.  Start talking, right now!” 

“What do you want me to say, huh?” Dean said softly.  The fight just wasn’t in him to match Sam shout for shout.  Not when it felt like he was about to fracture into pieces.  “It’s not exactly like I know what the hell I’m doing here.  I don’t do this kinda thing.  I don’t know how.  One-night stands I can do.  But I don’t stick around after.  No point in even trying with the way we live, you know?  Not until me and you…this...”

“Relationship?”

“Yeah, that.  And it’s been great, Sam.  Seriously great.  But doing this?  Taking this step?  It makes it really real.  Official.  When this is over...” God, just the idea of it sliced into him like a knife.  “When it’s over…well, it will be a hundred times worse if we add me being your first into the mix too.  You can’t unring that bell.”

Sam looked like he was going to start shouting again, but then he just furrowed his brow in confusion.  “You have no idea do you?  How could you not get it by now?”

“What?” 

“You have no idea that you’re it for me.  Doesn’t matter what you say or do.  It’s not even a matter of choice.  It just is.  Like breathing.  Like gravity.”

Dean struggled to process all of that but the words weren’t matching up to anything he could understand from past experience.  Sam was young.  Confused.  It was just a phase.  A crush.  He would wise up sooner or later and find someone he could be proud to be with.  And maybe Dean would die a little inside, but Sammy wouldn’t ever need to know that part.

Sam took advantage of the moment to climb back into his brother’s lap.  He cupped Dean’s face in his hands, pleading with his eyes.  “I know you.  I see you.  I can see you’re freaked out.  But I’m not.  Cause I have faith in you, Dean.  You should too."

“Sam”

“You’d never hurt me.  Not on purpose anyway.  You’d never violate your all important prime directive - Take Care of Sammy.”

“Fuck you.”

“All I’m saying is, that this is just a variation on the same theme.  No one’s better at taking care of me than you.  I trust you.  Want you to take care of me like this too.”

Sam started grinding down with his hips again, driving Dean’s focus back into the immediate desires of his body.  He mouthed underneath Dean’s ear.  Warm wet breath making him shiver.  “Dean, please” he whispered, raising goosebumps where his breath ghosted over sensitive skin.  “I want it to be you.  Nobody but you.”

“Sam, stop it.  Just stop.  You don’t know what you’re saying.  This is _important_.  You don’t just throw it away on someone like – “

“Someone like what, Dean?” Sam stopped moving, but he was clearly not ready to listen to reason.  Dean could tell by the stubborn furrow between his eyebrows.  “Someone like you?  Someone I love?  ‘Cause I do, you know.  I love you.”

“I know that, Sammy." Of course he did.  It was a basic fact of their lives.  But spoken out loud like that, it made Dean feel stupidly bashful and awkward.  His ears burned pink and he suddenly became fascinated with the weave of the ratty motel carpet.

“No.  You’re not listening to me.  Look at me, Dean.  I _love_ you.  I’m yours and you’re mine.  My first.  Last.  Always.  Only yours.” 

Dean's world went hazy and someone let out a choked off sob.  It might have been him. 

His brain scrambled to process what his body already was doing by primal instinct alone.  Lips crushing together almost painfully.  Tongue sliding sinuously against tongue.  Teeth dragging over soft skin.  Fingers clutching hard enough to bruise.  Hips thrusting to chase whatever friction they could find.  So intense and so much all at once that Dean felt like it was going to swallow them both whole.  He was scared to death of what was going to happen next. 

He pulled back and shifted away, pushing Sam off of his lap for the second time. 

Sam’s eyes flew open in shock.  “Dean!  You can’t just –“

“Sam”.  Dean’s tone was deceptively calm despite the jackrabbit pace of this pulse.  “I’m not going to let your first time be some quick fuck on the floor.” 

He rose and tugged his t-shirt off as he sat down on the bed.  “C'mere” he said, holding his hand out in invitation

Sam swallowed nervously.  His eyes wide like a scared puppy.  After a moment’s hesitation, he unfolded himself from the floor and stood in front of Dean, linking their fingers together.

Dean leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on each hard knob of hipbone.  He nuzzled his way down to the base of his brother’s cock, inhaling the musky scent there that was uniquely _Sam_ , before licking a long stripe up the underside and flicking his tongue over the slit. 

Sam gasped and dug his nails into Dean’s shoulder as his brother’s sinfully plush lips closed around him. 

Dean worked his tongue all over the sensitive skin, sucking him down deep to bump against the back of his throat. 

Sam moaned and trembled under his hands. 

He knew when Sam was getting close by the way his flesh twitched and jumped in his mouth.  A few feather soft caresses along the seam between his balls and Sam was crying out, pulling at the hair on back of Dean’s head.  “Fuck!  Stop.  Stop or else I’m gonna come too soon.”

Dean released him and stared up the length of Sam’s body, pupils blown out dark and glinting wickedly.  “It’s ok.  We’re just getting started.  Trust me.  Just let go.”

As soon as Dean pushed the head of Sam’s cock through the press of his lips again, Sam was coming in hot spurts on his tongue. 

Dean swallowed greedily, coaxing him through the aftershocks.  He could feel the vibration of each desperate little moan racking its way out of Sam’s body.  And when it was over, he licked him clean.

Sam slid boneless down to the bed, collapsing next to Dean on his stomach.  His skin flushed and breathing erratic.  “Christ Dean.  So fucking good." 

Dean manhandled him farther up the bed so that he could settle down in the V between his brother’s legs.  “Like I said, we’re only getting started.”  He ran his hands up the backs of Sam’s thighs, pushing them open wider.  “I’m gonna make sure you’re ready to take me, ok?  Don’t wanna hurt you any." He palmed Sam’s ass, holding his cheeks open.  “It’ll feel good, Sammy.  I promise." 

At the first long swipe of tongue flat against his hole, Sam jerked up like he’d been electrocuted.  “Dean!  What the hell are you doing?”

“Shhh.  It’s ok. Just relax.  I know it’s weird at first, but trust me it’ll feel amazing once I get going." 

When Sam didn’t provide any more protests, Dean settled down and went to work.  Tracing slow circles around the furl of muscle.  Lapping and sucking at the rim until he could feel Sam finally start to relax.  Pretty soon he was able to slip the tip of his tongue into Sam, fucking into him with shallow little jabs. 

Sam moaned and shifted to spread his legs wider, opening up for more. 

Dean nearly went wild, thrusting his tongue as deep as he could get it.  “Fuck, Sammy.  Told you you’d like it.  Taste so goddamn sweet.  I could do this all night.  Make you come again just like this.” 

Sam only moaned louder and rocked his hips backward to meet Dean’s tongue.

When he felt like Sam was ready, Dean pulled away to retrieve the lube and a condom from his duffel.  Sam folded his arms underneath his chin and watched him strip out of his jeans, eyes raking down to Dean’s cock.  He was thick with blood and impossibly hard from ignoring his own pleasure for so long.

“God.  Dean.  You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Dean felt the blush creep all the way down to this chest.  “Shut up, Sam.  In case you haven’t already figured it out, I’m an easy lay.  No need to be buttering me up."  He knelt on the bed behind Sam and starting slicking up his fingers.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.  Not everyone is trying to work an angle on you.  You’re gorgeous, Dean. Really you-Oh holy fuck!” 

Apparently all Dean had to do to end one of Sam’s embarrassing Lifetime moments was to slide a finger up his ass.  Good to know.

“You fucking jerk!" 

Dean couldn’t help himself from bursting out a chuckle.  “Hey, now.  Relax Sammy.  Just relax and let me take care of you, ok?” 

By the time Dean had worked in a second finger, Sam had clearly forgotten to be mad at him.  He was fucking back on his brother’s fingers, wriggling his hips and begging for more.  Dean didn’t think he could get any more aroused but that almost did him in.  The sight of his Sammy taking it so good.  So eager for him.

“Dean, please.  Want you so bad.”

“Not yet.  Almost, but not yet.  I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to.  And you’re so goddamn tight, Sam.  Feel so good on my fingers.  Can’t wait to get inside you."

He thought he was going to die if he didn’t get to fuck Sam soon.  But he pushed down his frantic need and lubed up another finger.  Sam hissed a little as he slipped it in, and that helped him regain control more than anything. 

“I’m sorry, baby.  I know it burns.”  Dean dripped more lube onto his fingers and tried to work them in a little more gently.

“It’s ok.  I’m not a girl, Dean.  I can take it."

Sam’s indignant tone almost had Dean chuckling at him again, but he stifled it rather than ruin the mood.  Instead, he twisted his fingers around to find that sweet spot that would distract Sam from the pain. 

Sam cried out when Dean nudged his prostate.  “Holyfuckingshit do that again!”

Dean bit his lip to keep down what he suspected was going to be a distinctly unmanly whimper.  “I’m dying here, Sammy” 

“Yeah, ok.  Ok. I’m ready.  I want it.”

“Turn over." Dean never put a condom on so fast in his life.

He lubed himself up as Sam sprawled on his back, legs spread wide open.  It was possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Just breathe." Dean inched forward on the bed, lining himself up.  He pressed in gently, watching Sam’s face for any sign of pain.  When he felt Sam’s body swallow up the head, Dean’s whole body started to tremble.  Like he was the goddamn virgin. 

Sam grabbed at the headboard as if it was the only thing preventing him from flying off into space.  His eyes were wild and unfocused.  Making urgent little noises as his dick started to harden again.

Dean grit his teeth and pushed forward, letting Sam adjust as best he could along the way.  When he bottomed out, he gathered Sam up close underneath him and kissed him slow and sweet.  Slotted together like that, two halves made whole again, Dean felt that angry restless animal inside of him finally go quiet.

Sam brought him back down to earth again, rolling his hips up experimentally.  “C’mon, D.  Wanna feel you." 

It was only a whisper of encouragement, but Dean snapped into action like a man on a mission.  He knew he wasn’t going to last long.  He was good, sure.  Fucking great when he put his mind to it.  But he was only human.  No one could withstand the kind of exquisite world-altering pleasure that he was feeling, buried balls deep in that tight silky heat.  Not with Sam, his gorgeous gorgeous Sammy, running long fingers over the landscape of his back and seemingly on a mission to kiss every freckle he could reach.

Dean groaned when Sam captured his right nipple with his teeth.  “Oh God.  S-so good. So good, baby.”  He stroked long and deep so that Sam could feel every inch of him, drawing out as much of that incredible sensation as he could.

Sammy whined and writhed helplessly underneath him.  He lifted his legs and hooked his ankles together around Dean’s middle in an effort to urge him on faster.

Dean gave in to Sam’s wordless pleas when he felt his orgasm coiling tight inside him, poised to snap him in half.  With his own heartbeat drumming in his ears, he began to pump hard and fast. 

“Sammy.  Mine.  My Sammy.  Only mine.”  He hooked his arms up under Sam’s shoulders, holding him in place as he fucked into him. 

When one hard thrust connected with Sam’s prostate, he screamed out Dean’s name and came, shooting warm ropes of come across their bellies.

Feeling his brother clench around him and come without even a hand on his cock, Dean shuddered in ecstasy.  He pounded into Sam’s prostate, lost in mindless passion.  He could feel every quiver of muscle, every tremor of the orgasm punch its way through his brother’s body.  Felt Sam sink his teeth into his shoulder.  Felt him clench tighter inside when the last wave of pleasure crested and washed over him. 

Then Dean was free-falling over the edge.  Orgasm searing through his body like wildfire.  Cock pulsing.  Come flooding out of him.  Every nerve-ending rocketed with electric heat.  And when the blackness finally took him, he went smiling.

Dean came to with Sam was still pinned underneath him.  Fingers grazing his skin lazily up and down his sides. Soothing little nonsense murmurs and soft kisses pressed to his temple. The first coherent thought that Dean was able to string together was that he should really be the one comforting Sam and not the other way around. 

“You ok?”

Sam hummed some kind of blissed-out happy little sound.  Dean wanted something a little more concrete than that.

“Sam?  You’re ok, right?  Seriously, you’d tell me wouldn’t you?  I mean, it was good right?  I didn’t hurt you or – “

“Dean.  M’m fine.  Better than fine.  I’m fucking _amazing_ right now.  You were amazing.  Perfect.  Or you would be if you’d shut up and stop killing my buzz here.”

Dean let out a short laugh and moved to extract himself from his brother’s arms.  Sam only clung tighter.  Like a giant sleepy octopus.

“Come on, Sasquatch.  You got to let me get up before we’re cemented together like this.”

Sam nodded and let his body go limp.

Dean pulled out gingerly and dropped a kiss to Sam’s stomach when made a noise of protest at the loss.  “Be right back." 

After the condom was discarded and he’d cleaned them both up with a warm washcloth, Dean maneuvered Sam until he got him under the covers.  Sam immediately went into octopus-mode again, fitting himself snugly against his brother’s chest. 

Dean rested his chin on Sam’s head and breathed in the clean scent of his hair.  He wanted to memorize it.  Wanted to commit everything about the night to memory forever.  The lights from their tree casting a halo of colors on the wall.  Black and white images of wholesome human goodness flickering over their TV screen.  The feeling that came with the knowledge that he was safe and warm, wrapped up in the arms of the one person in the world who really got him.  Who he could trust with his life.  Who loved him in every possible way. 

“Love you, Sammy." 

Sam inhaled sharply.  He gripped Dean tighter and was quiet for a moment.  When he spoke, Dean could feel wetness where Sam had his cheek pressed against his heart.

“Merry Christmas, Dean." 


End file.
